


i'll have what he's having

by harperuth



Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [10]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Developing Relationship, Epistolary, Fake Out Make Out, Illnesses, Love Confessions, M/M, Ratchet Prime - Freeform, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, and somehow an entire plot that hinges on cher, excessive romantic comedy references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harperuth/pseuds/harperuth
Summary: ACCESS ARCHIVE > Designation: Whirl.RUNNING SEARCH…LOCATION: Priority > Megatron > Work > Center > Coworkers > WhirlREASSIGN.LOCATION: Mechs > Whirl- - -Or, five times Whirl quoted a romcom at Soundwave, and one time Soundwave quoted one back.
Relationships: Cyclonus & Whirl (Transformers), Soundwave & Megatron, Soundwave/Whirl
Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424047
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80





	i'll have what he's having

**Author's Note:**

> um. okay.
> 
> as with anything in primacy, this started off as a joke (am i tom hanks?) that spiraled into the fic you see before you. the list of romcoms referenced will be in the notes at the end.
> 
> thank you to james and k for cheering, looking over everything, and generally being the best co-conspirators anyone could ask for. and thank you to cher for somehow becoming the critical plot hinge.

Soundwave knew about Whirl, in the sense that he knew just about everything about Megatron.

Whirl had been the first longshot. The first time everyone looked at the Center for Forgotten Justice and scoffed, as if one ex-gladiator could take on Cybertron and possibly win. 

Like they had forgotten Megatron’s fight record.

The pits had been overrun with victims of empurata, with various levels of severity. Soundwave himself had offlined plenty. Megatron had offlined more. It wasn’t cruelty or mercy. Merely survival.

But, after the easier cases, the wins that got a construction caste mech into a medical academy, a soft-spoken shuttle into Iacon’s top science academy, a less flashy and mostly settlement based case for the rights of trinemates outside of Vos, Megatron had taken a long look at the Council’s medical center. Soundwave could read the grim determination across his features like it was its own language.

The first hurdle had been finding a case against them. Mechs were hard-pressed to fight any system, and empurata was less a system than it was a waking nightmare. Megatron had searched high and low for a case, any case. He’d nearly had their former pit medic convinced, distasteful as he might be, when Whirl crashed through the Center doors. Literally.

Soundwave hadn’t been there, but Ravage had. She had been lounging in the space between shoulder spikes on the gladiator armor that Megatron took a long time to abandon. She relished the memory as much as Soundwave did upon it’s transfer.

\- - -

_“Knock knock creatorfragger,” A voice echoed through the Center’s hall, in the wake of the largest crash she had ever heard, “Heard you were looking to frag up the fraggers that stole my head.”_

_Ravage blinked an optic open, amused despite herself._

_A single optic housing, the mark of nearly every empuratad mech, poked through the doorway to stare at her and Megatron. It narrowed, “I didn’t know gladiators snuggled kittens.”_

_Ravage yawned, showcasing her denta. The mech made a sound like sand caught in his vocalizer that had Ravage fluffing all her armor up in discomfort._

_“That’s real sensitive of you,” He said, the rest of him finally following the optic into the room, “Bragging about all those shiny denta.”_

_Ravage blinked, following the optic down to the strangest frame proportions she had ever seen. And she’d bonded herself to Soundwave. Pits, she’d seen some of the frame reformats that Starscream had undergone._

_“Were you like that before the head-theft, or was the rest of the body a bonus treatment to match?” She asked._

_The mech blinked, then threw his optic back and cackled. He crossed the small room and dropped himself into the dangerously rattling chair across from Megatron, who until now hadn’t said a word._

_“Glad I’m in the right place,” He finally said, and stuck a claw across the desk, “Whirl.”_

\- - - 

So he was aware of Whirl. Even as possibly the least sympathetic mech to a jury pool, they had still had gotten small steps started in the regulation of empurata. And Whirl had just...never left. Soundwave grew accustomed to seeing him in the Center’s offices, optic housing nearly brushing the ceiling. Then he grew accustomed to Whirl as his Amica’s full-time partner at the Center. 

Whirl had a particular knack for finding the small thing that could unravel an entire case. He saw how complicated things fit together and caused the other. He was also a decent mech to have in a court appearance, single optic and lack of hands intimidating any party opposing them. Younglings loved him.

But Whirl was nothing more than an extension of Megatron’s workplace to Soundwave.

\- - - 

“I owe you,” Megatron said again, datapads clattering as he sorted through them quickly, “I swear, anything you want; I owe you so much for this.”

Soundwave blatted a moment of static through his vocalizer, then reached out to straighten the datapad stacks, pulling the right one out and handing it over. Megatron sighed, stashing it in his subspace, grabbing at Soundwave’s fingers and sliding a quick _thank you_ through them.

“Make Rumble come and help you,” Megatron said, pulling lightly at Soundwave until he folded himself in against his chest, “Tell the little glitch that I would owe him too, he’ll love that.”

“ _Soft, old mech_ ,” Starscream’s voice accused, no ire in it. Megatron chuckled.

“Yes, yes,” He tipped his head forward, navigating the sharp bits of Soundwave’s helm with the confidence of vorns of practice, dropping a kiss on the top of his head, “I owe you.”

“ _Go_ ,” An old trainer from the Pits, half staticked beyond recognition, but his Amica always understood him.

“Right,” Megatron extricated himself from their tangle, “We’re looking for any mistake. There’s something in all that pitslag they’re trying to trip us up with, and all we need is one good one to file a stay.”

“ _GO_ ,” More forceful this time, a laughing Orion bubbled out, and Megatron grinned.

“Owe you!” He called once more, running out the door. Soundwave considered the piles of datapads all over the various tables that had been dragged into the office to hold them. He let his shoulders slump a fraction, and sent a call to Rumble down the bond. If any of his symbiotes would be willing to help Megatron, it was Rumble.

“Wow, is he always that touchy-feely? Does he not actually like me? Am I being left out here?” A voice cut through and Soundwave spun, dropping his right knees down and back and bringing his arms up in a defensive stance that was so deeply ingrained into his frame it might as well be part of his central coding.

Whirl stood in the doorway, arms crossed loosely beneath his cockpit, as if a gladiator of Kaon that was able to force Megatronus to a draw was nothing to fear. Soundwave forced himself to relax his arms, but kept his frame balanced on the edge of a fight. Whirl, somehow, rolled his optic.

“If you think I’m gonna just leave this entire Pit-slagged stack with only you, you're glitched, mech. Whirl,” He accompanied his designation with a wave about his frame, as if Soundwave didn’t know.

“ _Soundwave_ ,” He responded, the only thing he could think to play, Orion’s soft rumble, genuinely pleased as it wandered over his designation. Soundwave liked Orion, if only for the mere fact that Orion had liked him first, a rare occurrence.

“In the flesh!” Whirl yelped, and was suddenly in his space. Soundwave blinked at the movement he hadn’t even registered, and tipped his mask up, confused. Mechs didn’t...get this close to him. Megatron did, as did his symbiotes, but not...anyone else. Their edges of their fields bumped each other, barely a taste. Whirl didn’t seem to realize this fact, instead pushing his optic even closer to Soundwave, “Boy, he really does have a thing for mech’s with no faces, huh?”

Soundwave stayed silent and still, unsure of what to do. This was entirely unprecedented. 

Whirl snorted, “Right. Work. That is, uhh. Important.”

Soundwave was still frozen while Whirl moved around him to settle at a datapad filled table. He turned around slowly, still off balance in more ways than one. Whirl didn’t appear to notice, already buried in a datapad, optic flashing and narrowing as he read. Soundwave moved the other chair out from the table and sat down to read.

It was...dull. Soundwave was used to taking in massive data dumps; it was critical to Host coding. But even Laserbeak, sedate and meticulous as she was, had never taken to anything as dry and complicated as legal proceedings. He was always happy to help his Amica, especially when he was helping other mechs, but Soundwave was starting to wonder if he might really be owed for this one.

The task was somewhat hindered by the unexpected partner. Whirl never stilled, or quieted. He muttered at low volumes, hummed, and shifted in his seat constantly. Soundwave was fairly certain that if not for the digitigrade bends in his knee, that Whirl would be shaking the table with the bouncing. Soundwave lived with four symbiotes, two of whom weren’t even still in recharge or docking. Movement or noise was easily accepted and dismissed, but Whirl was different. Soundwave was hyper aware of the other mech, and couldn’t stop himself from glancing up every few minutes to take him in.

“I think the next step is footsie,” Whirl said, when he glanced up and was caught.

Soundwave tilted his head to the side, a habit picked up from Ravage, but useful in conveying a silent question.

“We’ve got the sneaking glances over the work of...hmm, I guess this makes Megs your dad, which, weird, but all I’m saying is, I think the next step is footsie, Cher,” Whirl said all this in seemingly a single vent. Soundwave was a little impressed, and he’d heard Frenzy scream for an uninterrupted seventy-two point four seconds once.

“ _I guess that’s so, we don’t have a plot, but at least I’m sure of all the things we got_ ,” Soundwave played over his speakers after a quick syntax search.

“Did you just—?” Whirl’s movements ceased completely, “Was that Cher?”

“Aw c’mon,” Soundwave broke from Whirl’s intent gaze to turn towards Rumble, “I came all this way ta help and yer playing Ravage’s weird Earth slag?”

‘ _Rumble often brings Earth interests into Ravage’s space_ ,’ Soundwave admonished down the bond. Rumble pulsed light across his visor in the closest approximation to rolling his optics that he and Frenzy had developed. Soundwave let his amusement trickle down the bond, ‘ _Help is appreciated_.”

“Why’m I even here, ya got help,” Rumble complained, belied by the way he was already reaching for a stack of datapads. 

“ _Tell the little glitch that I would owe him too, he’ll love that_ ,” Soundwave played back.

“I’ll show him glitch,” Rumble grouched. Soundwave heard a kick land under the table. Whirl didn’t even jump, “Stop starin’ at me.”

“I can’t blink,” Whirl quipped, “Really limits my options. Are you even old enough to read?”

Rumble ex-vented, but didn’t look up from plugging into the datapad, “Real original. The minimech must be a sparkling. Ha. Ha. Stop. I’m dyin’ over here.”

“Did you really come outta him?” Whirl narrowed his optic, “You seem real chatty for tall, dark, and silent over here.”

“I don’t talk about sparks on the first date,” Rumble said.

“Hmm,” Whirl finally looked at Soundwave again, and he nearly jumped, realizing he’d been watching the other mech the entire time. Rumble snickered at the faint embarrassment that filtered down the bond. Whirl rolled his optic and went back to his own datapad, “A gentlemech, huh? Maybe you are his.”

Soundwave felt energon rush around his spark, and firmly denied the request for his fans to kick on.

\- - -

**ACCESS ARCHIVE > Designation: Whirl.** **  
** **RUNNING SEARCH…** **  
** **LOCATION: Priority > Megatron > Work > Center > Coworkers > Whirl** **  
** **REASSIGN.** **  
** **LOCATION: Mechs > Whirl **

\- - -

Soundwave was fond of Whirl, in the sense that he was fond of anyone who also looked after Megatron.

Starscream had...erupted. Again. At least this time Soundwave could admit that Megatron held a little bit of the blame. 

He could admit it. He wasn’t going to.

But Starscream was gone and Soundwave had already set the timer for the eventual destruction of Megatron’s meager self-care. He made sure to visit the Center with more frequency, and drag Megatron out into the sol light. 

That was, admittedly, a miscalculation.

\- - -

“If it ain’t Mystery Mech himself!” Whirl crowed, when Soundwave crept into the Center’s office to collect Ravage.

“Why do you always get to be ‘Mystery Mech’?” Megatron grumbled, running a distracted hand down Ravage’s back.

“Because I’m very good at my job,” She said, smug as Ravage always was, in the sense of her own security of self. 

“And I don’t warrant any protections?” Megatron asked mildly, not truly put out.

Ravage leapt down from her perch on his shoulders, stretching languidly. She lashed her tail out to knock an empty energon cube off the desk, “You can take care of yourself.”

“And Mystery Mech can’t?” Whirl sounded genuinely curious, under the teasing tone. Soundwave glanced over to him, but Whirl was entirely focused on Ravage.

Ravage pulsed affection through their bond, “Of course not, why do you think I adopted him?”

Soundwave was glad for his mask. He was never able to control his expressions when Ravage was like this.

“Hmm,” Whirl swung around to look at him as Ravage jumped up to transform and dock across his back, his gaze far too loaded. Soundwave dropped a _goodbye_ packet to Megatron and turned to leave, already downloading and sorting through Ravage’s information.

He was engrossed enough that he was already out of the Center before he realized he had a different shadow than usual. He considered his options, but he was...curious. He stopped to let Whirl catch up.

“Hey Sugar, you lookin’ for a date?” Whirl slid right into his space.

Soundwave was unsure of what to do with this game. Whirl got close. Retreated. Soundwave returned the favor the next time. Retreated. Their fields brushed and tangled, never quite comfortably melding. Even now, Whirl’s field felt barbed, sliding wrong across his own, like Laserbeak’s plating under his hands when she was in need of grooming.

Soundwave swayed forward before he could think about it. He did a worrying amount of not thinking around Whirl. He felt a fine tremor begin in his hands.

Whirl offlined his optic, field swirling and sharp, “Gotta a proposition for you, Sights and Sounds.”

Whirl was shaking too, Soundwave realized. Neither of them moved.

“ _Proposition_ ,” Soundwave played back.

“Um,” Whirl’s plating shifted, an all over motion, and he stepped away, onlining his optic, “Yeah. Proposition.”

Soundwave didn’t follow him as he moved back, tilting his head in question.

“Take the heat off the great and terrible three,” Whirl tossed his optic housing over his shoulder to gesture back at the Center, “And get a little revenge.”

“ _Reveeeeenge_ ,” Starscream hissed from his speakers.

Whirl threw his optic housing back and cackled, “Knew those little rascals had to get it from somewhere.”

\- - -

“This seems too simple,” Ravage complained, “For you at least. I’m going to have so much slag to do tonight.”

Soundwave looked at her, ‘ _Ravage disagrees with plan?_ ’

“By all means,” She said, falsely airy. There was a glint in her optics and a block on her end of the bond that Soundwave had learned to be wary of.

Soundwave considered the building in front of him. The light flickered on the sign.

**C R A K S H F T S**

He ex-vented, and looked balefully at the spot Ravage had been in. She’d vanished into the shadows. Pits save him.

The interior was not much of an improvement. All the lights were purple. Subtracting the several sets of biolights on display. Soundwave deduced after a moment that these biolights were all in possession of patrons, not performers. The walls were painted in lurid neons that glowed under the lights.

Several mechs turned to look at him as he made his way across the writhing dance floor to the bar. He picked up more than one comm signal headed towards reporters. Whirl was right about that part being easy at least. 

He made it to the bar, leaning an elbow on to the surface. Oh Pits, oh Pits that was a _mistake_. He locked his joints in an effort to neither jump away nor lean _any other part of him_ onto the surface. 

A bartender stopped in front of him, the recognition across his face clear, “What can I getcha?”

“Cheap, strong, and with some boost,” Whirl appeared, crowding into his space. Soundwave leaned back into him, curious at how well they fit their frames together when their fields were still at odds.

His fans kicked on when he realized, belatedly, that this was the first time they had actually _touched_. Whirl’s plating was heavy and _warm_. Soundwave was startled at how much heat the other mech was putting off, and melted even further into him.

He barely noticed the drinks being deposited in front of them, focused in so heavily on _Whirl_. Soundwave’s hypersensitive docking ports picked up dings and scratches across Whirl’s plating, and he realized he had never seen Whirl shined to anything more than matte. Their fields tangled together and fought, catching and swirling and both shuddering in more emotions than Soundwave could tag. 

“Soundwave,” Whirl purred in his ear, “I appreciate this whole seduction thing you’ve got going on here, but let me give you a tip: I’m a sure thing.”

Soundwave shuddered, fans clicking up a notch.

“Flatterer,” Whirl curled an arm around him, the tips of his claws brushing Soundwave’s soft abdominal plating and making him shudder again, “I figure we gotta few kliks before we make our way into the public eye. You gonna drink this?”

Soundwave shuddered again at the soft intake cable that wound past him to take in the liquid. He loosed his own and wiggled at the hot wash of engex hitting his tanks. 

“You still good?” Whirl murmured, tightening the arm curled around his midsection.

Soundwave dropped a data packet, nothing more than _ok_. Whirl suddenly dropped his hold on him and stepped away. Soundwave felt cold in the absence of him.

“C’mon,” Whirl took hold of his arm, marching him across the dance floor and through a barely hidden side door, scattering mechs and causing a new burst of comm signals to flurry through the air. The door banged heavily as they marched through, and Soundwave could do no more than follow. He felt like his processor was offline, the whiplash of having someone else _so close_ to him and then gone again.

“One thing,” Whirl quipped, crowding Soundwave against the wall, femoral port popping open, “No kissing. It’s too personal.”

And with that he plugged in.

Soundwave, invariably, spent several hours of his day exchanging information via cable and docking with four other mechs, symbiotes they might be aside. They had long ago tossed aside the notion of one port or another being more intimate, it was merely the data exchange demanded of a Host. He was so numb to the sensation at this point that plugging in generally held no pleasure whatsoever, even outside his own symbiotes.

Whirl was...different.

Soundwave in-vented sharply and scrabbled at Whirl’s sides, shocked by the feeling. Whirl felt cold, echoing in the spaces he created in Soundwave’s processor. It was so at odds with the warmth of the armor under his hands that he shuddered, full frame, from his head to his pedes.

Soundwave rode the shudder out, and the next one, and the next. He finally gathered enough presence of mind to push his own cable out, questing for Whirl’s port.

“Fraaaag,” Whirl didn’t sound unaffected, but Soundwave was so intent on his quarry that he barely paid attention, “Host, right? I fragged one of you a while back, pre-makeover. Pre-Prehensile...um, cabling, right?”

‘ _right_ ,’ Soundwave pushed across his processor, and in-vented again when Whirl’s claws came up to grip his hips.

“Sorry, slag sorry,” Whirl immediately released him. Soundwave frowned behind the mask and finally plugged in himself.

‘ _Didn’t mean to touch with—sorry. I—sorry,_ ’ Whirl’s processor was a mix of shame and fear and sadness. Soundwave boggled and pushed through, throwing himself across the uplink.

If the pathways Whirl was tracing in his own processor were cold and echoing, then the sensation was tenfold when Soundwave pushed through. The echo chamber was golden light, with the occasional passing ghost of a thought, an errant line of code, a fleeting memory file. 

Soundwave followed the apologies and traced the solitary visible thread to a tangled and unorganized mass of files with no name. But he caught the gist. 

‘ _touch is good_ ,’ he pulsed through the link, pulling back to his own processor and tugging at Whirl’s claws with his hands, placing them back on his hips. 

Whirl’s end of the connection...hiccuped, for lack of a better term. Their merge teetered on the edge of a precipice for a shocking, icy moment. Then Whirl crashed through, still golden and echoey, but thawed, warming the pathways in Soundwave’s processor. 

Soundwave arched, audials faintly picking up the sound of metal scraping, as well as faint murmuring from the mouth of the alley. He stretched up as high as he could, pushing his mask close, but not touching, to Whirl’s optic. He felt them both shake; his centralized to his hands, and Whirl, through the uplink, along the entirety of his backstrut, ‘ _trust me?_ ’

Whirl hiccuped again. Soundwave traced along pathways and established his own. He realized that the previously thought tangled and unorganized files were actually intricately layered and connected, _in circles_. It took him a moment, his own lines and boxes and folders unable to compute, but when he unfocused, every file cluster were sets of, not circles, but _gears_ , interconnected and relying on each other for function and form. Whirl’s file clusters were _chronometers_.

‘ _Gonna make it look good?_ ' Whirl pushed across the link, and Soundwave rode out another shudder. His upward stretch had brought even more of their plating against each other, and the _contrast_ between heated plating and chillier pathways continued to throw him further into actual charge.

Soundwave wondered briefly if he might overload from this.

‘ _good_ ,’ Soundwave agreed, and loosed his cables, ‘ _turn with me, yes?_ ’

He flipped them, pushing Whirl back against the wall and keeping himself to the darker side of the alley. He let his cables slip free, wrapping them around Whirl to be clearly visible to the conspicuous group of snappers gathering. It also caused the pathways of Whirl in his processor to go fuzzy, expand and bleed over into his own files. They rode out Soundwave’s next shudder together, as the sensation ricocheted through the link.

‘ _can you lift me, like this?_ ’ Soundwave pushed through, accompanied with an image of what he was going for.

Whirl didn’t answer, only arched his back so Soundwave could slip a leg behind him, and lifted. Soundwave used his cables and Whirl’s arm under his hips to stabilize himself, but he still found his vents curiously thin as his pedes left the ground. He was plastered completely to Whirl’s side, legs around his abdominal plating, the top of his mask peeking out just enough to see the crowd of snappers from behind Whirl’s cockpit.

‘ _look good?_ ’ Soundwave teased, tracing lightly around some of Whirl’s file clusters, unable to locate anything in the organization so different from his own.

‘ _You’re actually a menace_ ,’ Whirl shot back, golden edges of his pathways bleeding over even more, covering Soundwave’s processor in a thin, glittering sheen, ‘ _The silence is just a cover so no one knows you’re laughing evilly all the time, isn’t it?_ ’

Soundwave basked in the feeling, someone new and so _different_ in his processor, slowly pouring through and settling over him. He tightened his legs reflexively, interface array burning. He squirmed, pushing the feeling away, focusing instead on the most uselessly shameless display he could with his cables, keeping one optic on the snapper crowd while burrowing further into Whirl’s processor. 

‘ _Useless?_ ’ Whirl quipped, ‘ _Feels, hmm, pretty useful on this end._ ’

Soundwave chased the words, knowing that Whirl was letting him, and followed them into one of the file clusters. The sensation was _overwhelming_. The file cluster must have been housing his entire sensornet because Soundwave was suddenly swamped in stimuli. He felt his own cables ghosting over body parts he didn’t have, a weight pressed against his side, and charge stronger than his own mounting.

‘ _You’re pretty enticing_ ,’ Whirl offered, drawing Soundwave back out of the cluster gently. He felt his fans struggling to expel heat, having been running at full bore for a while. 

This was unexpected.

Whirl must have felt his shock because he tucked Soundwave further into his side, letting him clutch and burrow further out of sight of the snappers, ‘ _Time’s up?_ ’

Soundwave let a wordless question float through his processor as he struggled to maintain his own systems. He had started grinding the burning cover to his interface array against Whirl’s abdominal plating at an unknown time, lubricant sliding uncomfortably down the inside of it. His temperature was ticking into the range of inadvisable to maintain. He felt charge rippling over the more delicate circuitry of his protoform, tickling, with nowhere to release to.

‘ _Make those cables look good over there_ ,’ Whirl pressed over the uplink before withdrawing almost completely. 

Soundwave had enough presence of processor to trigger the release of his last few to join the fray writhing over Whirl’s frame, so warm against him before, but now almost cool in comparison to the heat dumping off his own. They were smaller, more sensitive, designed for detail work or smaller symbiote uplink. He wormed them into seams, faintly hearing the snapper bots shutter clicks increase, but they were drowned out by the show Whirl was putting on.

Moans and groans filtered past his audials, and Soundwave felt a laugh slip out unbidden from his vocalizer. While the charge and heat were still overwhelming, the absurdity of the situation was starting to sink in. He was hovering uncomfortably close to overload in a dirty alley next to a filthy bar, in front of an audience of cameras, wrapped around _Whirl_ of all mechs.

Whirl, who was giving the performance of a lifetime and slowly edging them further back into the shadows of the alley. Soundwave offlined his optics behind his mask and tucked his head down, shudders wracking his frame. The sounds of the snappers died down. Soundwave struggled not to follow the last wisps of Whirl as he receded completely from the uplink, disconnecting the two of them carefully. It was quiet for a long few kliks.

“Hey, Sound and The Fury,” Whirl said softly, vocalizer sounding strained and staticky. Soundwave could feel the charge still in the words, “You still with me?”

“Barely,” Ravage’s voice slithered from the shadows, nose twitching distastefully, “I think he fried a few circuits.”

“I’ll take the compliment,” Whirl’s voice lost that soft edge, sounding annoyed and sharp. Soundwave kept his optics offline, trying not to think about the stickiness behind his panel, the charge they had built barely dissipated. He unwound his legs and cables and touched down carefully, leaning back against a wall.

“Mmm,” Ravage hummed, nudging at Soundwave’s hand, curled up into a fist while his vents and fans continued to dump heat, “We should get going. I’ve got a busy night of scaring publishers. Recharge well, Whirl.” 

Soundwave felt something brush at his other hand and snapped his optics online. Whirl grasped his wrist in between his claws and Soundwave wondered how his vents were still able to hitch. Whirl’s optic went wobbly and a little crooked, “In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight.”

He jumped up and transformed, rotors chopping up the sounds of the night air. Soundwave watched him fly away until he was a speck in the distance.

Ravage snickered, “Maybe this was a good plan.”

Soundwave frowned down at her, finally tearing his optics from the sky.

“Go home,” She rolled her optics. She stood and sauntered out of the alley, making sure to flick his thigh with her tail as she went, making him jump, “Take care of your charge. I’ll let the twins know they need to vacate.”

\- - - 

**Mechs > Whirl > Query (ARCHIVED) > Touching? ** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > Query (ACTIVE) > Touching > Quality > Query (NEW) > Enjoy?**

\- - -

Soundwave found Whirl interesting, in the sense that Whirl was unlike anyone he had met before.

Soundwave collected information. It was his duty as a Host. It was his function, his core coding. He knew so much, had seen the memories and observations of five lifetimes between himself and his symbiotes. And yet. Whirl remained perfectly singular.

There were new things he archived about Whirl every cycle. It was exciting for Soundwave to have new things to archive.

Knowing Whirl was exciting.

\- - -

Soundwave paused outside the door, twisting his fingers together. 

Whirl, for all his idiosyncrasies, was never late. He would be early, right on time, or hadn’t even left the place to begin with, but never late. Escorting a still slightly off balance Megatron to an empty Center had been disconcerting. A groon passing without him was enough to have Soundwave manually cancelling speculative processor trees enumerating worst case scenarios.

It was reductive. 

But now, here, outside Whirl’s door, he was wondering if he was overreacting. 

Perhaps it was the house putting him off balance. Soundwave considered the house, an actual _house_ , as he shifted uneasily forward and back. Nothing seemed off. Whirl could just be late, as Megatron so often was. Perhaps there was a client meeting they had forgotten Whirl was attending.

The door rattled.

Soundwave startled, stepping back and down, sliding his weight into his defensive stance. Everything remained still for an aching klik. Soundwave reached out, brushing his fingers against the door. It pushed in with no resistance, and closer inspection proved that the lock had been broken from the inside.

The speculative processor trees surged back with a force. Soundwave spent a few nanokliks manually deleting them once more. It didn’t have to mean anything. 

Laserbeak trilled over the bond, his unease passing through her. He paused and loosed her from her dock, running distracted fingers over her back and wings, letting her crawl up to his shoulder. Together they ventured into the house.

‘ _Strange_ ,’ Laserbeak turned her head and sampled the air with her sensors, so much more fine-tuned than his own, ‘ _It’s very clean. But...recently. Hmm. Strange._ ’

Soundwave pulsed appreciation down the bond, moving through rooms. Strange was the best way to put it. The air felt heavy, leaking an anticipation that Soundwave couldn’t place. Everything, while not orderly perhaps, was neat and well taken care of. There was the occasional askew item or furniture, and then. Soundwave paused, unable to stop the tilt of his head as he looked at the window and chair in front of him, both smashed to bits.

If it hadn’t been for Laserbeak squeaking in alarm and suddenly alighting from his shoulder he might not have dodged the blow.

The blade whistled over him, where his head had been not an astrosecond earlier.

Soundwave didn’t pause in his ducking motion, falling fully to the floor and rolling out of the range of his attacker, springing back up into the hunched defensive stance he had never been able to write out of his system. The other mech hadn’t moved towards him, but his blade was already perfectly poised for another strike.

‘ _Why does he have a SWORD?!_ ’ Laserbeak chittered frantically where she hovered near the ceiling, ‘ _Why is there a strange mech with a SWORD in WHIRL’S HOUSE?!_ ’

Soundwave winced slightly, trying to soothe her down the bond. He didn’t tear his gaze from the other mech. They surveyed each other in absolute stillness for several kliks. 

“ _Whirl?_ ” A very exasperated Megatron. Soundwave didn’t quite relax his stance, but he did turn his palms out in supplication.

‘ _If you surrender before he puts the sword away I’m finding a new Host_ ,’ Laserbeak sounded distinctly annoyed in a way that she had certainly learned from Ravage. Soundwave sent a pulse of comfort down the bond. He was fine. Would be fine. Probably.

The other mech’s gaze flickered between the two of them, “Host. You’re Megatron’s, I presume?”

Soundwave shrugged minutely. It was as good a descriptor as any.

“Was he meant to be on shift this cycle?” The other mech’s frown pulled a little deeper. Soundwave felt the flurry of a heavily encrypted private comm pass through the air. The mech relaxed slightly when whoever it was pinged back, “Ah. Apologies.”

The sword was sheathed and Laserbeak flitted down to settle on Soundwave’s head. Soundwave frowned and flickered annoyance at her. She responded with a prickle of her own, ‘ _As if he has any room to talk, what_ is _that helm? Also the sword. I have mentioned the SWORD, yes?_ ’

Soundwave was always glad for the mask in times like these. Mechs rarely realized that having four other processors bound to your own was what made it impossible to control his face. He didn’t bother with any pretense, his processor already swamped with the speculative file trees once more, and reached up to pet idly at Laserbeak, who chirred.

The silence stretched between them. Soundwave stared at the other mech and focused on Laserbeak’s plating under his fingers and manually deleting the file trees. He was wondering if they might have stood their all day when there was a crash behind the other mech and Whirl said, “Awww frag it all, wha’s goin’ on?”

Laserbeak chirped a greeting. Neither Soundwave nor the other mech moved.

“Oh good, the Baby Bjorn’s here,” Whirl’s vocalizer sounded slurred and staticky, “Wait, why’s the Baby Bjorn here? Cyc?”

Soundwave leaned over slightly, just enough that the other mech was no longer blocking him from view. He didn’t tear his gaze away quite yet. He lifted his hand in a wave, off-balance enough that he had no other course of action. Defensive protocols blinked on his HUD and remained enacted. 

“ _Whirl_ ,” Megatron’s voice again. Soundwave flitted through his files quickly, settling on a scratchy and corrupted file of a Pit boss, " _Okay?_ ”

“Cyc,” Whirl appeared in Soundwave’s line of sight as he draped himself over the back of the other mech, deftly navigating the sheathed sword, “Cyclonus. You have to tell me this or it’s entrapment. Can you see him too?”

“He is real Whirl,” Cyclonus’s voice seemed impossibly gentle for the barely restrained glower he was still aiming at Soundwave, “He came from Megatron. I did not realize you were intended to be on shift this cycle, I apologize.”

Whirl buried his optic housing in Cyclonus’s neck, “Fraaag, the Center. How slagged is Megatron?”

Soundwave shook his head before he could think about it. Laserbeak spat static through her vocalizer and upped the strength of her magnets. Soundwave ignored her and flipped through his archives. He could tell from Cyclonus’s continued glare that there was a right answer in this entire minefield of a discussion and he better get it.

“ _Megatron_ ,” Orion’s voice rumbled out. Soundwave paused, settling on an old and treasured Ravage’s, “ _Worried because I care about you_.”

What little he could see of Whirl trembled, his optic housing pushing harder into Cyclonus. Soundwave hunched and reached back up to run fingers over Laserbeak. She chirred a soft, musical sound. 

Cyclonus had softened though. It was subtle, but Soundwave could see every tensed joint relaxing. His glare had disappeared, smoothed into a blankness.

‘ _He’s worried_ ,’ Laserbeak passed on, ‘ _Hiding it well, but it’s there. He feels like Ravage does sometimes_.’

Feels. Soundwave pulsed affection down the bond. He loved the ways his symbionts perceived and talked about things. He took in Laserbeak’s data as sense, smell, sight, taste. To her, it was feelings.

“Are you wearing Paulie like a hat?” Whirl asked. Laserbeak chirruped back.

“He is,” Cyclonus confirmed. Whirl’s claws appeared from behind him to wrap around his midsection. Cyclonus didn’t flinch or sag, even though almost Whirl’s entire weight was clearly being entrusted to him.

“Yeah,” Whirl sighed, “I don’t think I coulda made that one up.”

“Why are you down here?” Cyclonus took his eyes off Soundwave for the first time, turning to nuzzle at Whirl’s optic housing. Soundwave didn’t take the trust inherent in the action lightly, “I distinctly remember telling you to stay in berth.”

“Why woul’ I start listenin’ to you now?” Whirl snickered, “Hadda make sure ya weren’ committin’ murder. Saw it in yer eyes, Cyc.”

“Perhaps,” Cyclonus shrugged, “I cannot see my own optics to tell you.”

Whirl snorted, “Always got murder in yer eyes.”

Soundwave looked away, knowing that he was intruding. Laserbeak scoffed, finally alighting from his head to hover in his eyeline until he caught her. He ran fingertips between plating, catching grit and straightening the smaller of her errant platelets. She purred.

“I will take your word for it,” Cyclonus murmured. Soundwave focused harder on Laserbeak, “Can I take your word that you will head back to berth?”

“Absolutely not,” Whirl, under the static and strain lacing his vocalizer, sounded amused, “I’ve already embarrassed myself and I’m here to stay and marinate in it.”

“ _Marinate_ ,” Cyclonus scoffed. Soundwave very carefully _did not react_ , “You need to stop with the Earth media, soon no one will understand a word you say.”

“Maintain the mystery Cyc,” Whirl said, “Gotta make sure I’m as incomprehensible to ever’one else as they are t’me.”

‘ _Should we just...go?_ ’ Laserbeak sounded amused as he felt, ‘ _Whirl’s clearly okay_.’

‘ _Whirl perhaps not okay,_ ’ Soundwave peeked back up. Whirl was still entirely flung across Cyclonus, optic not having resurfaced from his neck cabling, ‘ _But Whirl certainly taken care of_.’

‘ _Let me back in_ ,' Laserbeak ruffled her platelets, throwing his fingers off, ‘ _I’m clean enough_.’

She pushed up, transforming and docking. And leaving him with nothing to do. He twisted his fingers together and looked up at the quiet of the room. Cyclonus and Whirl were both staring at him. Soundwave rocked his weight minutely between his knees.

“ _Soundwave...Go_ ,” an old trainer commanded from his speakers. Starscream followed on his heels, “ _Goodbye_.”

Soundwave waved again, spinning and hurrying away. He was sparked for surveillance, but had never felt more like a voyeur in his existence. To his horror, his fans clicked on, his internal temperature raging from embarrassment.

Amusement flooded the symbiont bond from all sides, and he had the distinct feeling that Ravage in particular was laughing spectacularly. 

‘ _S’like watching ya and the Boss,_ ’ Frenzy pushed across, always the most adept at long distance communication, ‘ _S’sweet, but makes ya wanna hurl and skedaddle too._ ’

Soundwave couldn’t do anything but let his mortification bleed into the bond. Whirl and Cyclonus had been so singularly devoted to each other in that moment...it made Soundwave burn with more than just embarrassment, but he shied away from the emotions. He was so lost in his own thoughts and the bleed through from his symbionts that he flailed when another hand touched his.

“Soundwave,” Cyclonus said, “You’re Soundwave.”

“ _Ye-es?_ ” Starscream’s voice was leery and little judgmental. It was one of Soundwave’s favorite clips.

“I apologize,” Cyclonus was buttoned-up once more, none of the relaxed affection he had expressed with Whirl in his tone, “For the attack. There are...protocols that are hard to ignore on Whirl’s bad days.”

Soundwave considered him. Considered the strange morning and Laserbeak’s actively uploading data and his own embarrassment. Considered the knot of emotions that he had forcefully shunted off to a dumping subroutine. He looked down at his hands and carefully unknotted them, offering them to Cyclonus.

“ _Speak!_ ” A scratchy Earth vid on the training of domesticated house cats that Rumble had played for Ravage with great glee. Several times. Soundwave flexed his fingers, hoping Cyclonus understood.

‘ _Sorry_ ,’ Soundwave said, once Cyclonus had laced their fingers together, ‘ _Faster, easier this way_.’

‘ _Not many speak this anymore_ ,’ Cyclonus was searching his mask. For what, Soundwave was uncertain. He shrugged.

‘ _Sorry also for barging in_ ,’ Soundwave soldiered on, ‘ _Door was broken. Worried._ ’

‘ _I’m glad there are others to worry for him_ ,’ Cyclonus softened again, just a little bit, ‘ _My Conjunx and I do our best in our own ways, but he can always use more friends._ ’

Soundwave froze, and embarrassment raged once more.

Cyclonus’s expression didn’t really change, but Soundwave still felt like he had suddenly been entirely seen, as if the mask wasn’t there. His public frequency pinged with a new code.

“Whirl’s,” Cyclonus said, “His personal code, I mean. For worrying.”

Soundwave didn’t consider too long before sending his own personal code back along ping to Cyclonus, ‘ _Pass along. For worrying._ ’

There was a massive crash and the sound of breaking glass. Whirl’s voice drifted out to them, “You still alive baby?”

“I should take care of that,” Cyclonus sighed, dropping Soundwave’s hands. Soundwave nodded and slowly backed out the door.

“Yes!” He heard Cyclonus call back, measured.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Whirl’s voice was cut off by the door closing.

\- - -

**ACCESS PUBLIC ARCHIVE: Mechs > Whirl > History** **  
** **RUNNING SEARCH...** **  
** **DESIST.** **  
** **SEARCH STOPPED.** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > History > Tag (NEW): No Further Research** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > History > Directive (NEW): Ask.**

\- - - 

Soundwave appreciated Whirl, the way he appreciated anyone that treated his symbiotes like actual mechs.

It was a rare trait. Too many treated the mechs he treasured deep within his spark as lesser, or younger, or incapable. Whirl took in his family, the mechs he had made or had chosen him, and understood that they were _equals_.

\- - -

Soundwave considered himself altogether unflappable. Have a bond to one-third of the Megatron, Orion, and Starscream show, after having sparksplit two symbiotes with a strut deep dedication to mayhem and chaos, and try not to be unflappable. What it came down to was it took a lot to surprise him.

The scene he walked into stopped him in his tracks.

Whirl was crooning...well, what could be called a lullaby for Whirl. The receiver of his warbling affections was a bot that looked impossibly small cradled close to the sheer mass that Whirl embodied. The little bot hummed along for small snatches, then would curl tighter into Whirl, keening in pain.

Soundwave’s Host coding may as well have punched him in the face.

The Host coding wasn’t steeped in sire protocol. There were a few stray bits that could be translated as such that would enact themselves when tending to a newly sparked symbiote, as their spark caught up to the new body it was housed, stretched through and inhabited the previously inert processor. 

But they weren’t children, even in those moments, just newly sparked. It took time to construct pathways, though not as long as most mechs thought.

Symbiotes weren’t sparklings, or lesser mechs, or weaker sparked. They were just...particular.

But the Host coding still came with some specific kicks to match it’s particular charges. A need to provide care and show affection, however that presented for each individual symbiote. The need to listen to them, accept their information unequivocally, even when said information was something that Soundwave would otherwise have no interest in. The need to see them and connect, be it through a simple brush over plating all the way to a long-term docking.

The need to guide an overclocked processor and remove the strain.

Soundwave was across the office space before he realized he’d moved. He baffled at the spot he had last seen Whirl occupying before he shook his head to clear the worst of the coding. It didn’t work like that, but Ravage had picked up the habit from Rumble and Frenzy’s Earth vids, much to her annoyance, and anything Ravage picked up eventually filtered through their bond to Soundwave.

“I’m very sure the _scary looming idiot in the room_ is going to understand that he should stay the frag back,” Whirls voice filtered back in as he batted the overwhelming pieces of the Host protocols further down in his processor, “Because big hunching mechs with no faces are scary, ain’t that right?”

Soundwave took a step back, surprised once again. It wasn’t the first time that Whirl had spoken to him with entirely undisguised _threat_. It was the first time he believed it.

Soundwave took another step back, glanced at the floor, then back up when another keen of pain filled the space. He shifted his weight from side to side, bringing his fingers up to tangle into each other to keep them from reaching out. The Host programming continued to wrack through his system, just as fast as he could knock back again and keep himself from rushing forwards again.

“Hey!”

Soundwave startled and cringed back and down, reactions a mess from fighting his core coding. The barely a lullaby filled the room again, and Soundwave stayed down.

“Stop being fragging weird.”

Soundwave chanced a look up, and his vision was filled with a single optic. Whirl blinked, “One of your parasites hanging out on you right now? The little chestburster perhaps? Some of those spines look like hers.”

One claw reached out, lightning quick, and tapped at Soundwave’s front. He tilted down to see a slight quiver, and a question filtered hazily through the bond. Soundwave didn’t bother to answer, just disengaged the protocols keeping Laserbeak locked in. She trilled and didn’t move beyond her dock, snuggling into him and lending some of her own processing power across their bond. It was enough to give him a slight edge over the Host coding, and the rest he redirected towards her, sliding his fingers across her plating, dipping in a seam occasionally to dig out some grit.

“Ya know, you'd think after all this time I’d be immune to slag like this, but look at them. My fraggin’ spark is breaking. Have you ever seen a cuter sight? What am I saying. I pulled you out of a wall, of course you haven’t. Unless there were some particularly soft turborats in the wall? Met a turborat in a sewer once, don’t ask how I got there, but he was alright. Only chewed, eh, two _really_ important wires,” Whirl’s voice had the same quality to it that it did singing the lullaby. Soundwave focused on Laserbeak, her happy chirruping soothing his coding.

“ _Megatron?_ ” He chose a recording of Orion, his voice soft and rumbling in a way that hopefully wouldn’t disturb whoever Whirl was cradling. 

Whirl ex-vented hard, “Still down at Prowl’s station ripping him a new fragging subspace.”

“ _I pulled you out of a wall_ ,” Whirl’s own voice echoed back, in that strange lilting lullaby tone that Soundwave was fascinated by now that the fog of the Host coding had faded somewhat. 

“Rotor here,” Whirl gestured to the small bot that was strapped and clinging to his front, “My name, not hers. She can pick when she’s older.”

Soundwave tilted his head to the side, chancing a closer glance at her. Her face was turned into Whirl’s frame, the occasional whimper still escaping her. Whirl clacked a claw in front of Soundwave’s mask, “Some glitches were running some kind of fragging booster-running operation. Not sure what they were trying to accomplish with them but. Cold constructed kid frames. Stolen sparks from the Well. Two and two makes for one hell of a world of pain in that processor.”

Soundwave gripped harder at Laserbeak. Matching frames and sparks was a difficult business, of which he was all too aware. Rumble and Frenzy had been a blessing, sparks aching for mech-like frames that didn’t require proper docking, just link-ups. Ravage wasn’t of his spark, but he couldn’t imagine trying to understand everything she had required when splitting. Mechanimals were tricky to build, and she had more specialized sensors than he actually knew about. Laserbeak had been enough of an adventure and she was far easier to please than his oldest.

“ _Let me help!_ ” Starscream’s voice snapped and Soundwave accompanied it with a small telepathic data packet drop, assuring his desire to assist, not take or scare.

“Like slag,” Whirl growled, “I can _do this_. And she won’t let anyone else touch her, for good fragging reasons!”

Soundwave trembled, his Host protocols screaming at him to _take,_ to _fix_. This was so specific to something he was meant to do. He was trying to work out how to explain when a voice spoke up from the shadow of the doorway, “We know you can Whirl.”

Whirl didn’t look surprised to see Ravage, but Soundwave certainly was. She sauntered into the office, stopping briefly to nuzzle Laserbeak. Soundwave could only stare.

‘ _One Pit of a jolt in your coding Wave_ ,’ She continued until she was right in front of Whirl. She had never been scared of the mech so much larger than her, with the past and the abilities to hurt her. Granted, she had never been scared of anything in the entire time Soundwave had known her, ‘ _The Terrors are definitely on their way. You threw some nasty neediness down the bond pretty hard_.”

Soundwave flinched and further hunched into the strange squat he hadn’t bothered to straighten up from before. Laserbeak chirred and bumped her head up under the bottom of his mask. Ravage lazily flicked her tail back and forth as she regarded Whirl.

“Hosts have a few hard wired needs that they can’t get around,” She explained, staring him down, “Mostly because these needs match up to a Symbiote’s needs. Physical closeness. Listening. But the big one you tripped just now is weirder.”

She paused, glaring at Whirl. Soundwave sent _love_ and _thanks_ and _trepidation_ down the bond. Her plating ruffled lightly, but she didn’t acknowledge him, continuing to glare.

“Alright Thundercat, I’ll bite. Just how did I break old Brutus over there?”

“Symbiotes are…” She hesitated for the first time since walking in, then squared her shoulders, leaping up on to the nearest cabinet to bring her up to Whirl’s optic, “We have smaller processors. We aren’t slagging _dumb_ or _slow_ or any of that, understand?”

She and Whirl stared at each other for a long time. Soundwave finally gave up the ghost on standing and let himself crash to the floor, continuing to hold Laserbeak close and let her croon to him. Neither Whirl nor Ravage looked at him as he fell.

“I know a thing or two about other mech’s expectations there, Salem,” Whirl finally said, acid dripping. Ravage didn’t flinch. Ravage never flinched and Soundwave would never understand what he did that made her choose _him_ , but he would be grateful until the moment he offlined.

“Smaller processors,” Ravage continued, like Whirl hadn’t spoken. Like she hadn’t stopped and made him acknowledge her, “That like to do nothing more than explore, learn, and take in as much information as possible. Typically, we’re smart enough to understand our limits, find our Host, link up, and purge as much of that information as possible. We don’t _forget_. We just let their bigger processor handle the finer detail work of sorting what needs to become long-term memory storage, what should be followed up, and what’s actually going to be purged. None of this changes our spark memory, or our personalities.”

She ruffled her plating, and finally looked to Soundwave, _warmth_ and _affection_ radiating down the bond, “A good Host will accept anything we tell them. I know that Soundwave isn’t interested in seventy-five percent of what I tell him. But he _listens_. He takes everything I have to give and because it’s important to me, it’s important to him.”

“Bully for you Kitten,” Whirl didn’t sound mad or standoffish anymore. Soundwave couldn’t decipher his tone, but from the satisfaction pulsing from both her and Laserbeak’s sides of the bond, it was welcome, “But don’t think I didn’t notice you not answering the fragging question.”

“I’m _getting there_ ,” Ravage growled, but it was much more of a purr, in deference to the overstimulated youngling frame in the room, “It takes some explaining, I told you it’s _weird_.”

Whirl’s frame creaked in strange places, old wounds and surgical aftereffects, when he shifted back and forth to rock Rotor. He didn’t say anything else though, uncharacteristic as that was.

“Sometimes a symbiote, especially a young one, doesn’t know when their processor has reached its limit,” Ravage finally continued, breaking the creaking, crooning silence, “And they overclock. It whiplashes down the bond pretty severely. Hosts’ coding kicks in, sending them in pursuit of the hurting processor, and it can’t be stopped until the link up and take away the information, soothe the pain.”

Ravage ruffled her plating again, looking pained herself for the first time, “You’re holding a very small mech, not quite a sparkling, who’s got a very, _very_ pained processor. She may not be a symbiote, but it was enough to trip one of the basest aspects of Host coding. Soundwave doesn’t just want to help. He _needs_ to, in a way that is fundamental to his very being. He isn’t taking her. He doesn’t think you can’t help her, or fix this, or protect her.”

Whirl stayed quiet. Soundwave redoubled his attention to Laserbeak, feeling the Twins’ frantic concern over the bond as they approached. 

“Coding, huh?” Whirl said, and Soundwave startled. He was suddenly much closer, looming over where Soundwave had crashed to the floor. 

“ _Processor...bad_ ,” Soundwave played an old recording of Frenzy, the first time he had forgotten to link up and datapurge. The voice was so achingly young. 

Whirl cackled. He tapped a claw against his own head, “Yeah okay, processor bad. You got that itty bitty cable somewhere handy there, Rosemary? The baby needs help.”

“ _Not a sparkling_ ,” Megatron’s voice this time, defending his symbiotes. Soundwave knew that Whirl understood that at least. The first time Rumble had thrown him into a wall, and Whirl returned the favor, had settled that at least. He let the smallest cable he possessed unspool, and presented it to Whirl.

Whirl was quiet again. This was turning into a stranger and stranger afternoon, Soundwave reasoned. Whirl reached out and pinched the cable in his claw, barely any pressure to his touch. Laserbeak took off to sit on Ravage’s back. Soundwave collapsed forward with relief when the connection kindled in existence, his mask bumping into one of the bends of Whirl’s knee.

He didn’t bother to greet Rotor, just set to work building pathways, drawing the important pieces of spark memory in to fill in the longer term memory stores, turning down stimulus sensors that were dialled too high and out of control, and sorting through all the memories that she had been storing since being onlined. As he relaxed and focused, the rest of the room fell away.

Later, he would review Laserbeak’s files on the afternoon.

\- - -

_She watched as her Host’s frame melted further into Whirl’s unmoving stance, the mech completely frozen._

_Ravage huffed, “Thank you.”_

_Soundwave was always impressed that Whirl managed to roll a single optic. Laserbeak had a better understanding of working with what your frame had. Ravage bared her denta in a yawn, “It was either you were a good person about this or I sent out Frenzy on a surveillance binge to overclock himself.”_

_“Perish the thought of Baby Banshee with a little headache,” Whirl sniped back, acid in his tone, but nowhere in his body language._

_“‘Perish the thought,’_ some _body’s been spending too much time with Megatron,” Ravage mocked, then, “Rosemary’s Baby doesn’t exactly fit your theme, does it ‘Beak?”_

_“Go crawl in a smelting pit,” Whirl muttered, brushing a claw over Rotor as she stopped whimpering, and started falling into recharge._

_Laserbeak chirruped, and dropped her head to rest on top of Ravage’s. Ravage kept both of their gazes unerringly on Whirl, “That isn’t nice.”_

_“Frag off Thundercat.”_

_“Whaddya think ‘Beaky?” Ravage chuffed her closest approximation to a laugh, her vocalizer not built for that particular output, “I think Whirl here is a fetching Katherine Heigl.”_

_“I refuse to admit defeat,” Whirl twisted his optic around to squint at the two of them, “But even I’m a little horrified by the possibilities in that one.”_

_“Take your pick,” Ravage purred, the motion travelling up and tinkling Laserbeak’s featherplates, “There’s plenty of good options. Beaker here is a fan.”_

_Whirl snorted, “How nice.”_

_Ravage turned both her and Laserbeak’s attention away as the Twins raced in the room, the moment broken._

\- - -

**Mechs > Whirl > Directive (NEW): Run cross search between “Mechs > Whirl” and [“Priority > Ravage”, “Priority > Laserbeak”, “Priority > Rumble”, “Priority > Frenzy”].** **  
** **SEARCH: COMPILING.** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > Query (NEW) > Symbiotes > Query (NEW) > Mutual Affections?**

\- - -

Soundwave was coming to realize that he relied on Whirl.

Whirl was an extra optic on Megatron above all else, but it was more than that. Soundwave’s symbiotes all liked Whirl, even Laserbeak at her most recalcitrant. Pits, even _Ravage_ seemed to approve of Whirl in her own lofty way. 

Now that Starscream was back, Soundwave was back to his usual schedule of dropping by the Center. That was to say, less. Whirl never gave him a chance to miss him.

\- - -

**Oh frag, Starscream’s here again.**

Soundwave paused in his work, keeping an image capture carefully turned to the subject. He considered the message at the top of his mask’s HUD. Mischief shot through him.

**frag is right**

**I hate you.**

**no you dont**

There was no return message . Soundwave brought his optics back to the subject, watching her putter around the apartment’s main room. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this job. Airachnid didn’t display any usual signs that he had come to expect with cheating mechs. It wasn’t an exact science, but he’d seen enough of them at this point to pick things up. Plus, he hadn’t seen her interact with his client even once despite Soundwave instructing him to go about their relationship as normal.

She seemed to have a perfectly usual home made with the other two femmes she was clearly involved with. Soundwave would follow them next, but he was starting to doubt his client’s claims. Sure, Airachnid had some...more interesting business ventures, but so did Starscream and Soundwave didn’t judge him. For that. Pits, she had met _with_ Starscream for business once already.

**No, no, no, you were right. Ugh.**

**i know megatron**

**I never wanted to know him** **_this much_ ** **.**

**> :)**

**Do not.**

**> :) >:) >:)c**

**I will block your comm frequency for all eternity.**

**starscreams a spike mech**

**I HATE YOU.**

\- - - 

**Hey**.

**hi**

**Why are you awake?**

**et tu**

**Shakespeare? Really?**

**megatron**

**I hate how much that tracks.**

**megatron**

**did you need something**

**No.**

\- - -

Soundwave sat silently as the new client meeting droned onwards. It wasn’t anything particularly taxing, a referral from Megatron, a mecha escaping a less than ideal living situation worried about being watched by their previous partner. Counter-surveillance.

It didn’t explain why Soundwave’s spark was cycling too fast, or why anxiety was crawling through his coding.

**whirl**

He nodded at the client and offered them the datapad with his standard CFJ referral information. Nacelle frowned at it, “Oh, no, I— The Center was kind enough to offer education and answers to me, but I’m perfectly able to pay you full price. I— Consider it...sponsoring the next mech that’s referred who cannot?”

Soundwave nodded, and switched the datapad with his standard information. His spark still felt constricted.

**Sights and Sounds?**

**sorry**

Soundwave deleted more anxiety based thought trees. Nacelle seemed to pick up on his mood and the rest of the meeting was hurried along, base payment transferred, and Soundwave made his way through the streets of Vos.

**Are you alright?**

**Do you need help?**

**no**

Soundwave kept his head down as his spark continued to cycle too fast. Laserbeak trilled at him through the bond, out on a flight with Starscream. He soothed her back, ‘ _dont worry, enjoy flight_.’ Rumble and Frenzy checked in, both on assignment. He pinged back. 

Ravage was silent.

Soundwave stumbled, spark cycling faster.

**I hate to say it, but you’re kind of freaking me out Moth Mech.**

**is ravage at center**

**No? Was she supposed to be?**

Yes. She was. Soundwave jumped and transformed, shooting into the sky. She’d left this morning on her usual route, and he had steps to retrace.

\- - -

**Soundwave.**

**Soundwave.**

**Gimme something here mech, you’re freaking me out.**

**I haven’t said anything to Megatron. I know you don’t want him freaking out too.**

**Soundwave.**

**You’re bonded, right? I remember Rumble saying something about that. You can find her like that, right?**

**Frag, just comm me back please.**

**Soundwave, please.**

**whirl**

**sorry**

**sorry**

**do you know a doctor that treats mechanimals?**

\- - -

Soundwave couldn’t even pace. 

Rumble and Frenzy muttered from where they were curled up together on Whirl’s lap, and Laserbeak was firmly attached to Soundwave’s head. Soundwave stood frozen in the waiting area. His processor kept sticking on a terrible loop of the memory file of Ravage, curled up and utterly limp, kicked to the side in an alley near the Center.

Rumble and then Frenzy’s end of the bond fuzzed as they both slipped into recharge. Soundwave kept his optics on them.

“Soundwave,” Whirl said softly, “You should sit.”

Soundwave rocked his weight back and forth, before shaking his head. Whirl’s claws were holding Rumble and Frenzy close where they had slumped upon finally falling into recharge. They were...Primus, they were so young. 

He didn’t know how old Ravage was.

**Tell me about her.**

Soundwave shifted his optics back to the door the doctor had taken Ravage behind. He couldn’t have gone with her. Host coding and Medic coding didn’t get along very well when it came to symbiotes.

**she found me**

Decavorns ago. Barely more than a newspark himself and she’d abandoned her creator Host for _him_. Soundwave still didn’t understand.

**ravage has been with me since before the pits**

**she liked megatron first**

**she’s always had better taste than me**

**She’s going to be alright.**

Soundwave shrugged.

**Flatline’s good. Ratchet vouched for him.**

Soundwave didn’t give a single slag about the Prime right now.

\- - - 

“An old virus,” Flatline spoke softly while Ravage slumbered on the medberth, “She had the firewalls for it, but the coding for it combined with a new low-level code that’s been going around and it mutated.”

Soundwave nodded, relief flooding his system. Megatron’s voice rumbled from his speakers, “ _Spark?_ ”

“Yes,” Flatline’s field rippled with troubled feelings that Soundwave couldn’t tag, “Her spark slowed in it’s cycling so much to nearly offline. That’s why yours sped up to compensate over the bond. She should be fine to go home in a few joors, but make sure you bring her back if the spark cycling starts to shift again.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Soundwave played, an old recording of his own voice.

“Of course,” Flatline left them the room, and Soundwave curled his helm over Ravage and tried not to scream.

\- - -

**thank you**

**Don’t thank me. Not for this.**

**sorry**

\- - -

Soundwave collapsed into Megatron’s lap.

“She’s alright,” Megatron soothed, running a hand down Soundwave’s backstrut, “You know how she gets when she feels cooped up.”

Ravage’s hissed words lodged themselves firmly into Soundwave’s processor, their long history giving her the distinct ability to target her hurt. He knew she was nothing but exhaustion and misdirected frustration at the moment, but it didn’t mean she was ineffectual. Soundwave let his head fall to Megatron’s shoulder.

“ _It hurts_ ,” A petulant Starscream. Megatron chuckled.

“Yes,” He agreed, “I imagine the twins are steering clear for that reason.”

Soundwave rumbled a noise and dropped a data packet at Megatron.

“They’re with _Whirl_?” Megatron’s vocalizer did something weird. Soundwave drew back and looked up at him, but his face plates were unreadable.

Megatron. 

Unreadable.

Soundwave spent several kliks rerouting what felt like hundreds of misfiring subroutines. He _always_ understood Megatron, even when Megatron didn’t understand himself. His processor ached.

**rumble and frenzy being good?**

**Of course not, who do you think we are?**

Soundwave let his processes settle out. Megatron’s field was worried, “You drifted away for a bit there. Are you alright?”

Soundwave pushed a copy of all his overwrought emotional coding into a data packet and dropped it. Megatron winced, “Ah.”

\- - - 

Whirl looked out of place in his apartment.

Soundwave had never really upgraded after that first apartment out of the pits. Three rooms was always more than enough, with several symbiotes sleeping in his more nights than not. Soundwave was so used to seeing Megatron in here, the way Megatron was meant to exist in all his spaces, that seeing Whirl hunch below the ceiling made him wonder if the place had always been that small.

“Hey Thundercat,” Whirl ducked into the room that was decidedly Ravage’s at this point, “Heard you almost offlined from _old age_. You’re a fragging opera heroine.”

Ravage snarled weakly, but Soundwave about collapsed from relief as her end of the bond swirled with affection and humor for the first time in decacycle.

“Charmed as always,” Ravage yawned.

“Aww, near death experience got your bite?” Whirl opened and closed his claws, “You should try _non_ -elective surgery. Nothing like it.”

Ravage purred, rolling her optics, “I’ll keep it in mind for, hm, never? Is never alright with you?”

Whirl’s optic turned up in a sliver moon of happiness, “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“Go away,” Ravage curled up and laid her tail across her nose, “I’m recharging.”

“Call me back when you stop being boring,” Whirl reached out and pinched her ear, and Soundwave felt like he was _at sea_ when Ravage did nothing to swat him away. Her end of the bond was still brimming with tired happiness and he had to retreat.

Soundwave stood in the middle of the gathering room, flexing his fingers against nothing. 

“You okay?” Whirl sounded...softer. Soundwave didn’t turn around. His processor was clearly malfunctioning. It had been ever since Ravage—

“She seems like she’s doing fine,” Whirl ventured, “And I know Rumble and Frenzy are okay. Laserbeak isn’t docked right now, so she’s probably fine. What’s up with you?”

Soundwave froze as Whirl’s heat pinged across his back plating. They weren’t touching, but it was close. Their fields swirled against each other, not quite melding, but the burring catch was gone. Queries and processes and active searches pinged at him at various levels of urgency. His spark felt like it was cycling too fast, but a quick diagnostic proved it was fine. Ravage was still fine.

“Soundwave,” Whirl said.

He’d been doing that lately. Ever since— No more nicknames. Just Soundwave.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” A very waspish Starscream. 

“Convincing,” Whirl did not sound convinced. 

He hadn’t understood _Megatron_ , what hope did his malfunctioning processor have of understanding Whirl?

“ _I’m confused…_ ” He didn’t recognize the voice, an older recording. He didn’t realize he had it until it was out of his speakers.

“About what?” Whirl still sounded so slagging _gentle_ , like he was talking to _Rotor_ and not _Soundwave_.

Soundwave finally turned around. Whirl was _right there_. He had known, but having Whirl’s optic barely nanomechanometers away from his mask still startled something in him. He didn’t move back.

**Why did you comm me about a doctor?**

Soundwave stared up at Whirl. He couldn’t look away. 

**i dont know**

Whirl’s optic shuttered. Soundwave couldn’t reconcile Whirl’s frame in his apartment. It was too big. This was too big.

**why did you answer**

“Soundwave,” Whirl said, “I can’t— I don’t— It’s more than that. I love you, I think.”

His background processing queries ground to a halt. 

His frontal processing skittered to a stop.

Soundwave crashed.

\- - -

There were two voices that most certainly did not belong there.

“I think he’s waking up,” The first said. Soundwave’s processor struggled to connect it to his archives, “Don’t try too much right now. You dropped yourself into a forced defrag. Haven’t seen that bullshit since the last time Starscream threw a tantrum.”

“Ratchet,” The second voice admonished.

“Stuff it,” Ratchet sounded amused, “From what I understand through the grapevine he had it coming, and I reserve the right to lecture. I miss lecturing morons about their health, let me have this.”

“Soundwave,” The second voice said, and something in Soundwave finally linked his archives with his frontal processing and spat Orion’s designation out.

Both the other mechs winced.

“Glad to know the telepathy’s back online,” Ratchet groused, “Can you rein that in?”

Soundwave could barely _think_ and they wanted him to control something?

“Fine, loud and clear,” Ratchet groaned, “Pits, Megatron owes me a lifetime of drinks for this.”

“You’re never going to be able to collect on that,” Orion pointed out, “Considering he only asked me to come and you were incidental.”

“Tell that to his Amica nearly in stasis lock,” Ratchet countered, “He’s lucky I was with you when he called.”

Megatron. Where was—?

“He’s in court today,” Orion said softly, “The case with the younglings is finally being seen.”

“Tell me I can’t take Prowl’s badge away again?” Ratchet growled. Soundwave located his vocalizer and let out a blat of static.

“Can you sit up?” Orion asked. Soundwave followed his vocalizer down to locate the rest of his frame and levered himself up. He’d been laying on the couch, but he didn’t remember getting there. Full defrag. Primus.

“Oh, don’t bring that bag of wind into it,” Ratchet grumbled.

“ _Ratchet_ ,” Orion sounded stressed. He shouldn’t have been stressed. Starscream was back, “Yes, Starscream is back.”

“Anything more recent in that fragged processor?” Ratchet’s voice switched tack immediately to professional. Soundwave appreciated it, “Thanks spy, it’s a glowing recommendation. Any more recent memories?”

Ravage was sick. Orion gently pushed him back as he made to stand up, “Ravage is fine. She’s in the other room still.”

“Boss?” Frenzy poked his head in from the outer door, “Can we—?”

“Don’t link up with any of them,” Ratchet warned, “Keep your processing slow for the time being, let it work itself back up to speed. Comm one of us or Megatron if you feel worse, but you should be fine now that you’re back online.”

Rumble and Frenzy scampered inside, Laserbeak soaring past them into Ravage’s room. Soundwave curled around the pieces of his spark and let himself drift into recharge. Orion and Ratchet could see themselves out.

\- - -

**...**

**...**

\- - -

**Mechs > Whirl > Query (NEW) > Love > Query (NEW) > Intentions?** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > Query (NEW) > Love > Query (NEW) > Intentions > Query (NEW) > Important?** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > Query (NEW) > Love > Query (NEW) > Self > Query (NEW) > Reaction?** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > Query (NEW) > Love > Query (NEW) > Self > Query (NEW) > Favorable?** **  
** **...** **  
** **...** **  
** **Mechs > Whirl > Query (NEW) > Love > Query (NEW) > Self > Query (NEW) > Response?**

\- - -

Whirl loved him.

Soundwave was still unsure of what to do with the knowledge, even several voluntary defrags later. 

Whirl was _Whirl_.

And Whirl loved him.

\- - -

Soundwave stared unseeing in the direction of his client’s office. 

Laserbeak was soaring overhead and occasionally databursting packets to keep him apprised of the situation so that he wasn’t completely failing at this job. He curled up further into the jutting alcove of the roof opposite their assignment and cancelled every processing tree before it could bloom, instead monitoring Ravage sleeping on her end of the bond. Which was probably why he didn’t hear the approaching engine.

“You are a hard mech to find,” Cyclonus said softly as he landed.

Soundwave jumped, whipping his mask around to stare at him. Cyclonus didn’t appear perturbed whatsoever by the scrutiny. He tipped his helm around to where Laserbeak was passing, “She, however, is easier.”

Soundwave made a note to repaint the symbiotes. Rumble and Frenzy filtered annoyance down the bond before shutting their ends once more. Soundwave didn’t move as Cyclonus approached, “ _Why?_ ” 

Megatron’s growl was no less pervasive for being recorded and played back. It still held the rough edge he’d had in the Gladiator Pits, self-repair not bothering to smooth his vocalizer with so many other ailments to attend to. Soundwave had found the correct pitch and frequency to play the clip to shake wings. 

Cyclonus didn’t so much as twitch.

“I am sure you know why I am here,” He said, vocalizer perfectly smooth and even. Everything about him was smooth and even and measured and enough to hold other mechs up and Soundwave burned brightly with hatred for a single, perfect moment.

The feeling collapsed and Soundwave’s spinal strut did along with it. He dropped his mask down on his knee joints and shrugged.

“Be assured that I ask with no desire for an obvious answer to move the conversation along, but—” Cyclonus hesitated. Soundwave curled himself in tighter, “How are you?”

Soundwave shuddered, cancelling several more process trees that threatened to branch, and held out a hand. Fingers threaded through his own.

‘ _Worried. For you. No ulterior motive_ ,’ Cyclonus signed out.

‘ _I didn’t mean to hurt him_ ,’ Soundwave pressed back, thoughts he hadn’t been allowing to bloom in his processor pouring out through his fingers, ‘ _Stressed. Surprised. Unsure._ ’

“Alright,” Cyclonus murmured softly, then signed, ‘ _I do not believe he meant to say anything that drastically. You scared him_.’

‘ _I am alright_ ,’ Soundwave pressed out after a long klik of the new data trying to soothe his spinning systems, ‘ _Is—_ ’

He couldn’t continue. His vents picked up speed. Laserbeak landed on his helm, chittering angrily. Cyclonus’s fingers unlaced with his own.

“I am sorry,” Cyclonus said, voice backing away, “He is as well as can be.”

Thrusters sounded and Soundwave shivered at the wash of warm air that blew through his alcove. Laserbeak settled more heavily on the back of his helm, ‘ _I’ll keep watch._ ’

Soundwave pulsed love and appreciation over the bond as best as he was able.

\- - - 

“Soundwave,” Megatron sighed. Soundwave didn’t turn around.

“I miss seeing you,” Megatron said, fingers tracing the back of Soundwave’s helm. He held himself still.

He sent a databurst that amounted to _can’t_ and pulled his berth covers over his helm, dislodging Megatron’s fingers as he did so.

\- - - 

“I always knew you were pathetic but this really takes the oilcake,” Starscream said into the stale air of his gathering room. 

Soundwave played his short term memory back. _Starscream_? He struggled up on to his elbows, onlining his optics. Starscream had an uncanny ability to know when Soundwave was actually looking at him or not, and had clearly been waiting to be seen, “Well?”

Soundwave glared at him. Starscream snorted. 

“ _Nice paint job_ ,” Some random gladiator sneered.

“Nice optical fluid tracks,” Starscream sneered right back.

Soundwave sent a data packet of one of Frenzy’s more pitched screams. Starscream rolled his optics, “I do live with my own voice, you know?”

Well there was very little Soundwave could say in response to _that_. Starscream settled next to him on the floor and pulled a bottle and two cubes from his subspace, “I brought booze. Non-optional.”

Well.

\- - -

“No,” Starscream’s vents hiccuped, “Shut up. Listen to me.”

Soundwave turned his helm to stare at Starscream, who sighed, “He’s— Ugh, I need more engex— _Attentive_ about saying he loves me now. It’s disgusting. I hate it.”

“ _You love it_ ,” Starscream’s own smug voice played back at him. Soundwave couldn’t stop the singular breathy snicker his own vents were capable of.

“Fuck off,” Starscream snorted, “You know how bad he is. He hugs Whirl now. Kind of. As much as Whirl lets himself be hugged. It’s the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Soundwave’s hydraulics tightened reflexively. Starscream poked his abdominal plating, “Shut up. I’m not going to tiptoe around you like you’re some youngling with an overinflated ego and crush.”

Soundwave seriously contemplated removing his mask for the sole purpose of biting Starscream.

“You’re being a coward,” Starscream continued, overcharge marching him forward, “I know it. You know it. _Megatron_ knows it.”

Soundwave flinched.

“They’re _feelings_ , Soundwave,” Starscream said, rather richly for a mech that had been hunted down and delivered home for his own _feelings_ to be addressed, “Not a nuclear device.”

Soundwave pushed all his uncharitable _feelings_ into a datapacket and dropped it at Starscream. 

“Get fucked,” Starscream sloshed more engex in his cube, “...Literally. If you’re into that.”

“ _Get fucked_ ,” Soundwave played right back.

Starscream laughed so hard he spilled his newly poured engex down his own cockpit.

\- - - 

“I think you know ‘zactly how you feel,” Starscream mumbled, face mashed into Soundwave’s shoulder, “You jus’ don’ wanna admit it.”

“ _It’s hard_ ,” Starscream’s voice played out. Starscream nodded as much as he was able.

“The absolu’e wors’,” He confirmed, before passing out.

Soundwave listened to him vent and let his processor trees bloom.

\- - -

The Center was dark, this late in the night cycle. Soundwave sent a ping to Cyclonus and waited for the confirmation ping back. He nudged Rumble through the bond and trailed a hand over Rumble's helm as he left.

‘ _Go get ‘im Wave,_ ’ Rumble’s thoughts were already turned towards his brother and something that Soundwave wasn’t quite able to see. He pulsed preemptive disapproval down the bond then let them be.

While the outside was dark, there was a single light straining to reach the lobby, and Soundwave didn’t have to follow it to know it was the back office. He didn’t bother to keep quiet as he went; he didn’t want either of them more on edge than they had to be.

Whirl was quiet as he was capable of being, bent over his desk and studying a few datapads.

His frame still ground and squeaked where maintenance hadn’t beat out faulty self-repair. His knees were bouncing and rocking the rest of him, occasionally hitting the desk and rattling the pads on them. His rotors shuffled themselves endlessly as he muttered subvocally along with what he was reading.

Soundwave wasted a long few kliks just watching him. 

“Did it hurt you to be quiet that long?” Whirl said, “Or were you working on your puppy dog visor that still isn’t gonna work on me?”

Soundwave tilted his helm, “ _Whirl_.”

“ _Slag_ ,” Whirl stood and turned in the shutter of an optic, staring at Soundwave, “I, uh, thought Rumble had come back in.”

Soundwave laced his fingers together, staring back at Whirl. Neither of them moved. Whirl finally shuddered, “You look better.”

Soundwave nodded.

“I didn’t think you’d wanna see me,” Whirl ventured.

Soundwave shook his head.

“I—” Whirl groaned, claws opening and closing, optic dropping down and to the side, “I don’t know what you want.”

Soundwave cycled his vents. 

“ _Whirl! you_ ** _feelings_** **scared** _too much_ **_just_** **RIGHT** _need time_ ,” Soundwave spooled together words and phrases, recordings he didn’t even know he had, trying to get everything out as fast as he could. He took a step with each new voice, pushing himself into Whirl’s space.

Their fields brushed, tentative at first, but Soundwave pushed, burrowing himself into Whirl’s heat and energy and the barest hint of cycling spark. Nothing caught or hurt, just swirled together into something new Soundwave couldn’t identify, but he didn’t want to let it go.

“ _Whirl! you_ **ARE** ** _just_** **RIGHT**.”

Soundwave stepped forward again until their plating brushed, ducking enough to put his mask right in front of Whirl’s optic, watching it dilate and cycle.

“ _You think I’m beautiful?_ ”

“ _My special gift is impossible relationships._ ”

“ _I thought you looked like Christmas morning, I don’t know how else to say it._ ”

“ _—in moments of quiet, I’m strangely drawn toward you—_ ”

Whirl’s intake audibly cycled, “You’ve been watching my movies, huh?”

Soundwave nodded. Cycled his own intake. Pressed himself as close to Whirl as he could, letting their fields surround him.

“ _I’m sorry I ran_ ,” A drunken Starscream, but Whirl nodded. Soundwave looked into his optic.

“ _I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn’t know this either, but love don’t make things nice—it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren’t here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die._ ”

Whirl picked up one of Soundwave’s hands in his claw, dropping his optic housing softly against his mask, “Thought we established that you were Cher in this relationship.”

“ ** _We aren’t_** _movies, huh_?” Soundwave curled his fingers around Whirl’s claw and offlined his optics, “ _BUT_ **I love you** _still_.”

Whirls hummed something, before his own speakers burst to life, “ _I guess that’s so, we don’t have a plot, but at least I’m sure of all the things we got_.”

\- - -

**ACCESS ARCHIVE: Designation: Whirl.** **  
** **LOCATION: Mechs > Whirl** ****  
**REASSIGN.** **  
** **LOCATION: Priority > Whirl**

**Author's Note:**

> romcoms:  
> 1\. Clueless (1995)  
> 2\. Pretty Woman (1990)  
> 3\. Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005)  
> 4\. Any Katherine Heigl movie with a baby in it  
> 5\. Bringing Up Baby (1938)  
> 6\. Moonstruck (1987)
> 
> come yell at me about robots on twitter [@floralpunkcfb](https://twitter.com/floralpunkcfb)


End file.
